The Letter

Evan’s new school year predictably starts with a note from his teacher asking if we could meet her (it’s always been a her). So it was this year, and it was because he was answering all her questions and not giving his classmates a chance. “I would if they knew the answer” was his simple reply when we talked to him. We helped him understand the value in giving others a chance, but we weren’t terribly concerned. The teacher and Evan usually reach an understanding quickly and the rest of the year goes smoothly.

So I thought it was just that when his teacher complimented Evan at pick up from school on Thursday, a few days later. “Evan had a very good day. And he was very good at writing his letter”, she said.

Evan usually doesn’t like to talk about his day right after school. As we drove away from school we joked about it in our usual way: “I hope you didn’t learn anything today” I said as seriously as I could. “No I didn't! I was awesome at not learning anything” he replied. I never got to asking him about writing his letter.

On Saturday evening Evan’s school hosted the annual welcome party, the Fiesta de Bienvenida. Jo and I left the kids at home in Sofia’s capable 15 year old hands and stopped at La Condesa for a couple of drinks before making our way up to the 6th floor garden in the new downtown Library building for the party. Soon Jo and I got separated and I ran into the new head of school and his wife.

Back story: the new head of school is different from the last. She was a big, loud, smiling, booming presence. He is a small, pale, precise, reserved guy. He wants kids to be quiet in the hallways and parents to get the kids to school on time. Not seemingly unreasonable requests. But the school and it's constituents are used to being loud and late. So it's a change and changes are never smooth. People were beginning to murmur about his South American credentials - or was his just a gringo who can speak Spanish? I felt like I needed to tell the man that I support his new policies.

So back on the 6th floor garden at the Fiesta de Bienvenida, wine glass in hand, I told him. He thanked me, introduced me to his wife, and said that it seemed like everyone in my family wasn't of the same opinion. I assumed he meant Jo, who he had probably just run into. Turns out that he had just met Jo. She later filled me in that she had said "I'm JoEllen. I don't think we've met". To which he replied that he knew who she was, and that her son Evan was in the 3rd grade.  

But no, Jo hadn't disagreed with his new policies. He explained that "Evan wrote me a letter in which he disagreed. It was a strongly worded letter". Then he went on to explain that the entire 3rd grade had written to him on Thursday, and that he remembered Evan's letter. He used the word "strong" again.  And that he was going to reply to all their letters.

I was happy to hear that Evan is following in Vivian's shoes. Later, the next morning, Jo and I asked him what he had written to the head of school. "I don't remember" was all we could get out of him for a while. Finally when pressed, he said "I told him we needed more experiments in science and some other things". 

Can't argue with that.

Oh - and we saw the head of school and his Ecuadorian wife dance later that evening. He's no gringo.